


you're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece

by cupcakeb



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: F/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24189550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcakeb/pseuds/cupcakeb
Summary: Carla does drugs. Valerio is one of them.
Relationships: Carla Rosón Caleruega/Valerio Montesinos Hendrich
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	you're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

> .... I don't know where this came from.... enjoy. 
> 
> Title taken from Halsey's "Colors".

Carla is not the type of person to mess around. She drinks, sure, but she doesn’t ever let things get messy. She’s always deliberate, maybe ( _definitely_ ) calculating and above all, she always stays in control. 

Scheming usually means she gets her way. It gives her a natural high, of sorts, but keeping Yeray infatuated with her had been so easy, she’s desperate for a challenge. 

So when she’s at yet another party, playing the role of sexy, blonde arm candy, she gets tired of whoring herself out to protect her family. A few drinks in, she can think of nothing she’d love more than to get away from Yeray. She leaves his side, mumbling some weak excuse about needing the bathroom, and decides she’s going to have some fun tonight after all. 

It’s on her way to the bar, where she’s headed to buy a very expensive bottle of tequila, that she spots Valerio out of the corner of her eye, handing a little baggy of white powder to a tacky looking stranger. 

_God, how pathetic,_ she thinks, and is about to look away when their eyes meet. Instead of looking like someone who was just caught dealing drugs, he just looks excited to see her and waves her over. It’s almost endearing.

She doesn’t know why she walks over at all, really. Valerio is not someone she has ever consciously spoken to. Sure, she’s known him almost as long as she’s known Lu, but that doesn't make them friends or even friendly. His tendency to constantly be sent from one boarding school to another, leaving Carla to comfort Lu whenever he abruptly takes off again, is frustrating. None of the things she knows about him make him someone she gravitates towards at clubs, and yet here she is, approaching him, a snarky comment about selling drugs to rich kids at the tip of her tongue. 

It’s a brief exchange, a quick trading of well-mannered jokes, yet somehow Carla’s mood instantly changes from miserable to… somewhat _intrigued_. Who knew Valerio was such a fun person to play off of? He’s temperamental, and trying to get a rise out of him is surprisingly difficult.  
  
When she tells him drugs aren’t her thing, she senses something that feels a lot like excitement coarse through her veins. And when he holds out his finger to her, covered in whatever substance he’s been selling, she sees a glint in his eye that she instantly recognizes. _Oh_ , she mentally scoffs, he’s _challenging_ her.

If there’s one thing Carla, as a matter of principle, doesn’t do, it’s back down from a challenge. 

She holds his gaze and leans in to lick the tip of his finger without a second thought. The chemical taste is awful, but she doesn’t let the disgust show on her face. When she looks up at Valerio as she pulls away, he looks oddly impressed, like he wasn’t expecting her to go for it. She revels in the feeling, loves knowing people find her unpredictable.

He holds out a small baggy filled with whatever drug she just took ( _maybe she should have asked first,_ she thinks absentmindedly) and she snatches it from his hand without a second thought. 

“See you later,” she says, her lips curling upwards in a tiny smirk. 

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” he shoots back, and she wonders what exactly he means by that. 

It’s only when she’s rounded the corner back towards the dance floor that she realizes she just took drugs to get a rise out of someone. _An unhealthy streak of competitiveness_ , that’s what a bougie guidance counselor in elementary school had once written about her in an evaluation she was probably not supposed to read. 

_Oh well,_ she thinks, a far cry away from having any fucks left to give.  
  
Three things happen between the time Carla licks the drugs off of Valerio’s finger and the time they kick in. First, Yeray leaves and Carla feigns interest in meeting him for lunch tomorrow. Then, she notices her vision getting slightly blurry, her eyes focusing on things at random. When she’s finally starting to feel comfortable and blissed out, Valerio suddenly appears in her direct line of vision, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
“So?” 

Carla tries to answer him, she does, but she can’t think of any word in the world to describe how great she feels. She thinks she’s smiling back at him too, grinning even, no longer able to keep her cool. She feels fucking amazing. 

He twirls her around on the dance floor, and Carla can’t say she’s even remotely bothered by the fact that there are probably people they know in this club, that this will somehow get back to Lu, to Polo, to whoever is left of her fucked up group of almost-maybe-sometimes friends. (And really, who the fuck are they to judge her anyway?)

So when Valerio pulls her close and looks her right in the eye, his eyebrows raised in a challenge, she knows exactly what she wants. 

“I want more,” she whispers, and delights in how he pulls her away from the dance floor without any hesitation, grabbing her hand and dragging her to a quiet corner.  
  
She practically pounces on him the second he’s dipped his finger back in the magic dust he keeps in his jeans pocket. Swirling her tongue around his finger, she lets go of it with a pop, and finds him staring at her, transfixed, a smile playing on his lips.  
  
“Your turn,” she says, and watches him take out a tiny vial of something else which he snorts without hesitation.  
  
Giddy with excitement, Carla tackles Valerio and clings to his neck. His hands instantly find her hips, and she can’t help but notice how amazing having another person touch her feels right now. She feels warm and fuzzy all over.  
  
“Let’s dance,” he murmurs, grabbing her hips harder to get her to stop swaying to the rhythm of the music.  
  
And so they dance.  
  
…  
  


She loses track of time, loses herself in the feeling of letting go of absolutely every single thing she’s been overthinking for the past year. Here, now, as she closes her eyes and throws her head back on the crowded dance floor, all that matters is the beat. 

Valerio stays close by, losing himself in the music as much as she is, though she doesn’t know if he’s actually particularly high, seeing as he’s crazy and careless at the best of times. 

It’s during a quick water break at the bar that Carla finally chances a look at her phone (she had tried before, but her eyes wouldn’t focus somehow, so she couldn’t make out the screen) and sees it’s almost five in the morning. She still feels like doing something reckless, like she’s on top of the world, but she can tell the drugs are wearing off a little.  
  
Saved by the bell, Valerio walks over then, snagging the bottle of water out of her hand and taking a large sip. He’s right behind her, and she can feel his breath on her neck as he speaks.  
  
“Put your phone away, Carlita,” he yells over the music. “Whoever you’re texting can wait.”  
  
She snickers, taking the bottle from him and finishing the rest of it in one go. God, she’s thirsty. 

It’s when Valerio’s playing with her hair absentmindedly, his other hand tracing some kind of pattern on her shoulder that things finally, seriously take a turn.(For the worse, for the better - she doesn’t really know, but it’s… a turn.)  
  
Her brain short circuits, her nerve endings on fire because of whatever chemicals in her system, and she doesn’t so much decide to turn around and kiss Valerio, it’s more of a reflex. Her body has been telling her to do this for hours, and she’s tired of fighting it.

The thought that she might regret this tomorrow morning crosses her mind briefly. But no, she won’t because Carla doesn’t make mistakes. Carla makes choices. Some of them worse than others, but she will not tolerate any feeling of regret. Not tonight.

Then, he’s kissing her back, and she stops thinking altogether, instead moaning wantonly into his mouth.  
  
Valerio kisses like he means business - playful, elaborate and with such brute passion, she thinks she could do this forever. Carla hops off the bar stool and drags him away before things can get more heated. She may be high, but she’s not planning on fucking him in a crowded club. She drags him inside one of the lavish club bathrooms, trying distinctly not to think about the last time she hooked up in here.

She closes her eyes and tries to feel instead of thinking.

Deciding to live in the moment, she pushes him down to take a seat and straddles him, not stopping a beat before crashing her lips to his. Breaking away, his hand comes up to her cheek, holding her at arm's length and taking her in. It could almost pass as careful, the way he’s cradling her face in his big hands.  
  
“Jesus fucking christ, you should see yourself right now,” he whispers, voice filled with awe. 

“Sweaty, with my makeup smudged and my pupils blown? Yeah, I’m sure it’s a real turn on,” she scoffs, but laughs anyway. 

“You’ve just described my ideal mate,” he chuckles, trying to keep a conversation going while he not so subtly unzips her dress and unclasps her bra. 

She decides they’ve messed around enough. 

Getting up, she steps out of her dress and lets it fall to the floor. The way he looks her up and down makes her feel heady with anticipation.  
  
“Valerio?”  
  
“Yeah?” 

She takes off her underwear, too, and just stares at him.  
  
“Shut the fuck up.” 

…  
  
He fucks like he is - Honest, open, bruising, fucking rough and passionate

Carla doesn’t know if it’s the drugs, or the distraction from her abhorrently boring life, but she doesn’t think she’s ever been with anyone who’s intensity matches her own quite like his. 

His mouth is on her neck, licking and biting and sucking in a way that’s almost painful, but somehow just right.  
  
Carla doesn’t like to talk during sex, not unless it’s part of some twisted roleplay, but when he bites down forcefully on her neck as he thrusts into her, hard, she makes an exception.  
  
“Fuck, Val,” she whimpers, her nails scratching at his back.  
  
In an instant, he grabs her hips hard to hold her in place and pulls back, an unrecognizable look on his face.  
  
“Don’t call me that,” he says, firm, and she can see a hint of anger in his bloodshot eyes. 

“What the fuck, Valerio?” She puts her hands over his and tries to get him to loosen his grip, rolling her hips slowly when he does.  
  
She can tell by his sharp intake of breath that he’s not really interested in talking about this any further when they could go back to focusing on getting off. 

“Nobody gets to call me that,” he mutters, answering a question she didn’t ask, slowly picking up the pace of his thrusts again. 

Carla can’t help it. She’s a shit starter at heart.  
  
“Lu calls you that”, she states, watching his face for any reaction to the statement. 

When he angrily grabs her hips and gets up, pushing her into the wall instead, she bites her lip and lets out a laugh. 

As he goes back to fucking her in earnest, the only noise left in the bathroom stall is her screams and the sound of their bodies colliding.

She loses herself in the feeling, her left hand clutching Valerio’s shoulder, the other grasping his hair tight.

The last thing she remembers before her mind goes blank with pleasure is his eyes staring intently at her, unwilling to look away.   
  
Maybe, just maybe, she should've done this sooner.   
  
(She doesn't know if she's talking about the drugs or him. Maybe both, since the combination seems to be doing it for her.)

…  
  
After, they get dressed in comfortable silence.  
  
Walking out of the now mostly empty club, they both laugh when they realize the sun is already up, birds chirping.  
  
He looks at her, almost calculating. It’s an odd look on him. “Do you want to come back to my place?”  
  
Does she? Carla considers it. On one hand, the mere thought of facing Samuel, especially as she plays the role of Valerio’s token conquest of the night, is daunting. On the other, she’s still slightly buzzed and wouldn’t mind fucking him in an actual bed as they come down from their high.  
  
“I’m not sure your roommates would appreciate my presence,” she suggests, hoping he gets the hint.  
  
He doesn’t. “Why wouldn’t they?”  
  
“For the same reason you don’t want me to tell Lu about this,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Some things are better kept hidden.” 

He seems to think this over.  
  
“Lu wouldn’t believe you anyway,” he finally says, pulling on a strand of hair that’s come loose from her bun.  
  
Carla laughs, feeling a bit more like herself as she comes off the drugs. Now that she’s confirmed her suspicions, it’s all too easy to push his buttons.  
  
“If you don’t want to make your sister jealous, you should probably stop fucking every single girl in our class,” she puts a hand on his chest. “Now call a cab, let’s go home.”  
  
He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes out his phone and opens the Cabify app. 

“You’re a fucking menace, Carla.”  
  
“No, I’m a fucking genius. There’s a difference.”  
  
And if she leaves her purse on the living room couch before she follows him to his room, tiptoeing through the kitchen, it’s only because she’s (kind of) high and very tired, not because she wants someone else to find it there. 

Carla doesn’t make mistakes, she makes choices, and this night was one of her best choices yet. 

**Author's Note:**

> Any kudos and comments are greatly appreciated - they genuinely make my day. 
> 
> find me [on tumblr](http://cupcakeb.tumblr.com/)


End file.
